From Hell and Back Again
by Alex-Lydia-Lee
Summary: The Yakuza are raging through Hell's Kitchen. They're leaving fractured families and homes in their wake. Matt is doing the best he possibly can to prevent this. But there's another piece on the board. A girl. A girl who's been left by the Yakuza. A girl who will do anything to find justice for her family's hardship.
1. Chapter 1

"Watch where you're goin, would ya!" The man yelled to me. From what I could hear from his voice, and the softness of his belly, I would say that he's the man I was looking for. I was on the ground, hands and knees flat against the molten pavement. I had just ran into Bob White, a very successful lawyer. He was standing above me when I stood up.

"I am so sorry sir." I told him. "I, I uh, didn't see you." He turned around to see my cane and dark glasses. I heard him intake a surprised breath.

"It's, fine. It's fine. Be on your way now." I walked on. He started to whisper to his bodyguards around him.

"Damn blind woman!" He ranted. "Spilled coffee all over my new shirt!" I let loose a small smirk as I made my way to my destination. The New York Bulletin. I had a story to share, and I was gonna make sure it got out there.

I was only a few blocks away when I was attacked. It was nine o'clock at night and not many people were on the streets. There were four of them. Each one had flowing robes and sharp blades. They were part of the Yakuza.

I heard them coming. But I could only barely hear their heart beats. I was in an alley way when they dropped from the roofs and on top of me. I could only fend them off for so long though. I was trained. But not this trained.

The tall one, he was the calmest. He got in the most hits. He hit and dodged like nothing I had ever seen before. The other three were good too, don't get me wrong. The other three got in their fair share of hits.

I was covered in blood by the time I knocked out one of them. I was able to send him, not her, into the wall just before I was sent into a nearby dumpster. And let me tell you how much that hurt. My head hit it first, so as the rest of me followed, I couldn't hear anything but the crunch of my head and the ringing in my ears. I slumped to the ground and the three remaining ninjas wailed on me.

I thought I was going to die right there and then when everything stopped. There were no more fists, no more knives, no more boots. But there was one thing. There was another heartbeat. It was steady and calm. Calmer than the three Yakuza bastards he was beating the hell out of.

I got up. Slowly, steadily. I reached out my senses, but it didn't go any farther than that one heartbeat. The one that saved me from the Yakuza. I could hear him fight the others. And quickly the three turned to two, then to one, then none. I heard his ragged breath. I could smell their blood, his blood, my blood. The amount of iron in the air was grotesque. "Are you okay?" He asked.

"You're bleeding." I said without thinking. Damn. The cut was between his spine and his side. There was no way I could see it. I got up, using the dumpster as support. My ears were still ringing a tad from the run in with it.

"How did you know?" He asked. His heart skipped a beat. Only one. Then it was calm again.

"I, I guessed. The others were bleeding, and, and I guessed you would be too." This wasn't good. I didn't know who this man was, and I couldn't have his heartbeat fucking up my work. I picked up my glasses, my folder and my cane quickly and ran, ran from the scene.

I wasn't out of the alleyway when a hand made a grab for me. I dodged instinctively. Mistake. A big mistake. Because another and another hand, made grabs and punches. Soon, his heart beat and mine were racing in the sparing match in the mouth of the alley way.

It only stopped when I landed one good hit on his face. I knocked him off balance and took off running. If I ran to the Bulletin, I could be bringing some wackjob right into their lobby, and I couldn't have that. So I ran past the entrance. I would have to bring them the folder another time.


	2. Chapter 2

I was in my apartment. The nights excitement left me weak and very badly injured. I had, from what I could tell, nine different deep gashes, none too serious, and around twenty tender bruises. Nothing was broken from what I could feel. Good.

Whoever had stopped the Yakuza from killing me was skilled. He was far more skilled than I was, and that scared me. Then when he had fought me, he was holding back. He was, testing me? Why? Why would some stranger want to test me? It didn't matter as long as I didn't have to meet him again.

Little did I know, the crazy guy who had saved me was on the next building's roof, watching me. I was only privy to this information when he decided to pay me a visit twenty minutes later. By then I had stitched and bandaged everything I could reach. I had downed a third of my whiskey bottle and dumped another third over the wounds. I was putting on a shirt and heading to bed when I heard the front door open. I pulled my shirt the rest of the way down and ran into the room. I wouldn't last long if I didn't have an advantage.

I exited the room with a small, very sharp knife. I could hear the heartbeat. His heartbeat. But I couldn't figure out where it was coming from. My head swiveled this way ant that, trying to pinpoint the sound. I didn't find it until it was right behind me, and at that point it was too late. The knife was knocked out of my hand. A hand clamped around my mouth and the other wrapped around my stomach. I was trapped. Well, I wouldn't be if I didn't want to pop most, if not all of my stitches.

"Listen carefully." His voice whispered into my left ear. "I want to know why the Yakuza were after you." I couldn't tell him. If I told him, it'd blow my story. "I'm going to uncover your mouth, scream and I open up your stitches." He released my mouth.

"Get off of me." I told him. I gave a half ass shove. His grip tightened. "And I'm not telling you anything." His heart skipped again. He was surprised. Good. Then, not so good. His free hand dug into one of the bigger wounds on my side. I could feel the stitches rip free, but I didn't scream.

"Let's try this again. Tell me why the Yakuza are after you, or another is opened."

"No." He found a wound that I had missed. One I hadn't disinfected or closed up. My god did that one hurt. The pain that I had suppressed with the alcohol was beginning to ebb its way back. "I'm not gonna tell you shit." He sighed and pushed me onto the floor. There I was again, hand and knees flat on the ground. But this time, it wasn't an act. Getting up sounded like agony. Three wounds were bleeding, and I had already lost a lot of blood. I was getting severely light headed.

He grabbed my arm and lifted me up. He had me by the shoulders.

"Do you know who I am?" He asked me. Shit. I didn't know who he was.

"No."

"Are you new to the city then?" Double shit.

"No."

"I'm the one who's been keeping the Yakuza away. And keeping criminals in jail." Triple shit! Daredevil.

"Oh." I should have known. His heartbeat was obviously comfortable in these situations. He was either a mob boss, or the Devil himself. I guess the latter was true. "Look, I don't work for them if that's what you're getting at."

"No? Then why do you have a list of their locations?" He shook me a little. Quadruple fucking shit! How'd he know?

"All you have to know, is that I'm not working for them, and I want them gone just as much as you, if not more."

"Why would you want them gone more? Did they go after you?" He still had ahold of me, but his grip soften, and so did his voice.

"Not exactly. Just a warning a long time ago." His heart was beginning to race.

"A long time ago? How long?" SHIT! I need to learn to keep my big blind mouth shut.

"You don't need to know that." His grip tightened.

"Tell me. Now." I sighed and let out a frustrated yell, which was interrupted by a sudden hand to my mouth. I smacked it away.

"Thirteen years ago."

"Why?" God damn he's persistent.

"My dad worked for them, double crossed them, and they taught him and his family a lesson." I looked away, well, angled my head away.

"What did they do?" Is he blind? I was blinded you big red ape!

"Made sure nobody could expose them." His heart skipped again. That was beginning to get annoying. "Now, let me go." I pushed away from him and he let go. Oh no. I went flying backward, unable to catch myself. I tripped over the shirt I had on earlier and hit the floor hard. Thank god my ass absorbed most of the fall. Not so good was the fact that my head still hit the floor.

My head rang as I writhed on the ground. Several of my stitches were open and I was bleeding out. I felt two arms wrap around me. I was lifted into the air, carried a few dozen paces and placed on my bed. I was left in my bedroom, I think, bleeding. But he came back! He came back with something I couldn't make out. Something, cold. I felt his ungloved hands feel a wound. Then I felt a cold liquid pour over it. OW! Ow! OW! Then I felt the needle and thread. OOOOWWWWW! He had found my med kit.

He moved from wound to wound, fixing my sloppy job. Within fifteen painful minutes, each of my wounds were restitched and bandaged.

"You're tough." He told me as he picked up the bloody bandages. I was breathing a little quicker than I would like to have been.

"Thanks. Unfortunately, I've had practice. Can't always have masked men stitch you up." My head was pounding as I spoke. But his laugh was nice. I felt him remove the mask. "What are you doing?" I asked him, looking away. He put it on the bed next to me.

"I know you can't see. I know they blinded you." He said. Shit. I wish I had my glasses on. "What's your name?"

"Alex." Might as well give you my social too while I'm at it.

"That's a nice name." I laughed, ow. That was a cheesy line.

"Don't you have some criminals to beat the shit out of?"

"No. Right now, I'm fixing a blind girl." He probed the stitches softly. "You need to take it slow for a few days."

"Sure thing doc." I went to sit up, but he pushed me down.

"Slow."

"Fine." I covered myself in my blanket.

"Where'd you learn to fight like that?" He asked me. No. I wasn't answering that. I couldn't answer that. For all I know, he's with them and he'd kill me right on the spot.

"A, uh, a friend of mine." I couldn't give him more.

"Hmm. Vague, don't you think?" God damn you Devil!

"I agree." He in took a rather large breath, maybe he got the hint.

"Where'd you get the information?" He got the hint.

"I, uh." Laying in my bed, while Daredevil himself loomed over you and interrogated you, was uncomfortable to say the least. "I nicked off of someone." Please don't ask who. Please!

"Who?" Of course he asked.

"A lawyer."

"Who?"

"Bob White."

"He has involvement in the Yakuza?" No, I stole these from his evil persona who just looks like him.

"Yeah." He walked away from the bed. Now was my chance to get up.

"That doesn't make any sense. I never heard his name come up." As he paced the small room, I painfully worked myself into a sitting position. Then, as I started to swing my legs over the bed, a hand shot out and pushed them back on. "I told you to take it slow." He told me. I felt him move to push me back down.

"I am taking it slow. I'm not jumping out of bed and doing cartwheels in the living room. I'm just gonna stand up." He backed off. "Besides. Even if I stayed laying down while you were here, you can't stop me once you leave."

"Fair enough." He went back to pacing my room.


	3. Chapter 3

It was two weeks after the Devil of Hell's Kitchen visited my home. After that night, I didn't come into contact with him again. Not until the night I tried to give what I had found on the Yakuza to the Bulletin. I was attacked, again. My stitches were out, and my wounds were mostly healed to scars, but trust me, I acquired some new ones.

The first one struck me from behind, knocking my cane out of my hand and flinging the folder out of my jacket. They scooped up the papers and made a dash back up the building. There were only two ninja's this time, with one on its way up the drain pipe, I was left with one. Easy.

Not easy. I forgot that they were in fact, ninja's. I only got a few good strikes in before the bastard pulled out a handful of fucking throwing stars. I dodged most of them. But not all of them. One grazed my left arm, leaving a clean, deep laceration. I clutched at my new wound. It hurt. Bad. And it was bleeding. Bad.

I had to stop this psycho before the other one got completely away with my evidence. I let go of my arm. The two of us traded blows for about twenty-five epic moments before I punched him a little too hard in the nose. She crumpled to the ground. Time to go after my papers.

I climbed up onto a car, then up onto a window ledge. I made good time sailing the building. The Yakuza with my stuff was on the opposite building roof, running. Why couldn't thieves just jog places? I took off after him.

Within five minutes of jumping from rooftop to rooftop and narrowly dodging AC units, I tackled the guy to the ground. He jumped immediately back up and sent a flying kick towards my unsuspecting head. He missed, thank God. Not so good, it hit someone else. Someone I REALLY didn't want to be there. No, it wasn't him, it was someone else. A regular old person I had never met before. The pour old guy got a face full of dirty ninja foot.

The man had just come through the roof access door to get kicked back down the stairs. I ran after him to make sure he didn't dislocate a hip or something. He fell down about eight fifteen stairs before hitting the landing. He didn't move. I kneeled over him. He was breathing, steady even breaths. The man was just unconscious. I pulled my phone out of my pocket and dialed 911.

"Send an ambulance, a man fell down the stairs. He's unconscious." The man on the other end of the phone asked me where I was and what my name was, but he was cut off when I ended the call. I slid the phone back into my pocket and ran back up the stairs.

Something wasn't right. I expected the man to be gone, I knew what I decided when I went to check on the old man. But he wasn't gone, he was on the ground, groaning. There was no one else, just the semi-conscious Yakuza member. And my papers! They were gone! My damn papers that I had risked my life for, twice, were gone. SHIT!

I went home. What else could I have done? My papers where gone, the Yakuza guys wouldn't follow me, and the police were on their way to my location.

My apartment is a little shit hole on forty-third and eleventh. I live on the top floor with room access, and the view sucks ass. I have the privilege of looking at my very old, and very nude neighbor across the way. Or whatever my friend said when I started living there.

When I got there, I cleaned up my arm. It wasn't as deep as I thought it was. My whiskey bottle was beginning to dry out with how much use it's had in the past few weeks. Thank god I had like four more. So I downed the contents of the first bottle. It set my nerves on a pleasant buzz, which I needed. I needed to be numb, even if I would pay for it tomorrow. I grabbed another bottle and a cup and plopped down on my couch.

As I poured myself a drink, I smelled something. Something I wasn't expecting. It was a folder. My folder. What? I reached over to my coffee table and felt the familiar stock of the paper. I stood up and picked up the precious object. But it was light. Too light. "Are you looking for these?" Asked an unpleasant voice. I heard the heartbeat. That stupid fucking heartbeat that knows too much.

"Of course I am." I answered, turning to him. He was standing in my doorway. "I'm guessing you're the one who procured my stuff from the Yakuza guy on the roof. Am I right?"

"Yes." He was being smug. I, being my anti ass self, wanted to personally escort the smug from my home in a very violent manner.

"Can I have them back, please?" He didn't answer. "With lots and lots of cherries please." I clapped my hands together.

"No." My God.

"Why not?"

"Because so far, I've helped you out of two situations with these papers being the cause." We shook them at me. Come on!

"And?"

"And, I'm tired of bailing you out of stupid situations. You got a man hurt tonight, you-"

"I got a man hurt? I don't recall kicking him down the stairs. No, from what my feeble memory can remember, it was the asshat with the sword who did that." I took a step towards his masked face. I didn't need to be lectured by the Devil about someone getting caught in the cross hairs. "You have no right telling me about getting civis hurt." I was only about a foot away from him. I could feel his breath on my face. He was six footish, so I had to angle my head almost straight up in order to 'look' him in the face.

My heart was racing. The nights activities left my adrenaline on high. But the best part, was that his heartbeat was beginning to pick up. I had struck a sensitive cord on his vigilante heart.

"I'm not giving them back." He said. Fine. You don't have to give them back, I'll just take them then. I made a quick grab for the papers. I landed a hold on a piece, but he was quick too. He yanked them out of my hand and tore it in half in the process. I yelled. I yelled so loud my ears ached from the sound, and I lunged at him. He had just ruined my only shot at exposing the Yakuza. At getting revenge for my family.

"YOU RUINED IT! YOU'VE RUINED EVERYTHING!" I hit and scratched at him. Kicked and yelled. I let out all of my anger on him, and he just, deflected. He didn't hit back, he didn't stop me, he just deflected. And it made it worse. I yelled and punched myself into exhaustion. I fell to my knees, sobbing. Everything was ruined.

I panted as tears raced down my face. My heat beat a thousand beats a minute from my exertion. And he just stood there, watching me, barely breathing. "That was my last hope." I sobbed. He kneeled down next to me.

"I know." He sighed. "I'm sorry." I heard his footsteps retreat from my apartment. I heard his guilty heartbeat retreat up the building and dash away from the scene of its murder. Because that's what this was. A murder. A murder of a girl who just wanted peace of mind. He wasn't going to get away with that.

I'm not mad at him, I'm just hurt. Hurt that he took things into his own hands. I don't want revenge on him, I don't want to unmask the man who stole my drive. None of that. But I wasn't just going to give up either. I'm going to find what I need, even if he doesn't want me to.


	4. Chapter 4

The Bulletin had a new reporter that filled Ben Urich's position. From what I've heard about her reporting, she was really good at her job and she went after real stories. I was originally going to just slip her my folder full of information on the Yakuza, but now that He stepped in, I'm going to have to resort to other means.

I walked into her office the day after He left me in my apartment. She was a cheery woman with a serious thirst for knowledge.

"So just who do you think are involved with them?" I didn't have all of the names memorized, but I did know a few of them.

"Well, there's Bob White, Johnny Newman, and Elizabeth Barley. Those are the names I know about." She listened very well.

"Who took the papers with all the names on them?" A damn menace.

"DareDevil." I told her. She in took a long breath. She knew him. I don't know how, but she knew him. Or she had some sort of run in with him. A heartbeat like that doesn't lie.

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah. I'm sure." I couldn't tell her about how we met though. "He found me in my apartment and took the folder. He told me that I could get in trouble with this information." She was nodding her head solemnly.

"Alright, miss, Treaty is it?"

"Yes."

"I'll look this over, and when I have this information worked out, I'll give you a call." She stood up. I stood up and offered my hand. She didn't seem awkward about it.

"Do you perhaps have a disabled friend Miss Page?" She laughed.

"How did you know?"

"Not many people aren't awkward around me. It's usually only other disabled people or people who have a lot of experience with someone like me." I leaned on my cane as I talked to her. She was really nice.

"Well, yeah. An old friend of mine is blind. He's a, he's a lawyer." She walked around her desk. "Let me show you outside." She held out her arm and placed my hand upon it.

"Thank you." She showed me outside.

A week later, I got a call from Miss page. She didn't call about information she wanted to introduce me to her blind friend, Matthew Murdoch. She told me that I would, like him. I don't know why she was introducing me to people. I just wanted my information published.

"Are you sure? I don't want to be a burden you know." I was sitting in my apartment with my phone between my ear and shoulder. "Miss Page-" I opened the fridge. "Karen, I don't want to intrude on your life. Oh, okay. Tomorrow?" I pulled the phone away from my ear for one moment. This lady was frustrating. She was as stubborn as any person I've ever met, but she's so nice about it. God damn it. "Yeah I'm still here." I put the phone back to my ear. "I'll see you then." I hung up the phone.

I was going to some place called Josie's with a reporter woman and another blind guy. Great. I grabbed a beer and slipped my phone into my pocket. I just hope she hasn't told the guy much. I hadn't told that Karen girl anything about being jumped in an alley way, twice.

It was about four in the afternoon when she called me, so all I had to do was finish off the rest of my boring ass day and get up tomorrow to meet Karen's friend.

I spent my time listening to the police sirens wailing in the distance. Listening to them wiz past my window. Listen to them confirm that I needed to get this information out.

It was ten o'clock in the morning. Karen would be here any minute, and I just rolled out of bed. Literally. I rolled out of bed and caught the edge of my nightstand with my forehead. Now I was bleeding, I was not dressed, and I was scheduled to meet some lawyer. This day was not going well.

I immediately got dressed. Throwing on a pair of jeans and a not dirty t-shirt. I would worry about my hair and shoes later. I needed to clean up my face.

KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK! Shit! She's here! I was in the bathroom, a paper towel against my face. And I rushed to get the door.

"Good morning." I greeted. I grabbed my glasses before letting her in.

"Good, what happened?" She asked. She grabbed my shoulders.

"Oh, I just, hit my head. It's nothing. Really." I left the hallway quickly. My head throbbed and I needed to put on shoes. "I'm so sorry I'm not ready. I just woke up a few minutes ago." I made my way to the bathroom.

"It's fine. Do you need help with that?" I let her grab the paper towel from me.

"Thanks." She cleaned the cut and put a band-aid on it. I threw on a pair of sneakers and grabbed a jacket. On our way out the door, I remembered my hair. "Hold on one second, would you?" I walked back into the apartment and into my room. On my night stand a cup full of hair ties sat. I grabbed one and left.

"Are you sure you don't need anything for that?" She asked for the fourth time. We were in her car on the way to Josie's.

"I'm fine, thank you." I rubbed at the itchy band-aid on my forehead. It was starting to bulge, and it felt like it might burst, but I didn't want anything for it. I don't like drugs. "Are we almost there?" I stopped itching the bump.

"Yeah. I wanted to ask you a few questions about that information you gave me." She shifted in her seat. She knew something, hopefully. "I found something on Elizabeth Barely that I wanted to discuss with you." She grabbed her bag and rifled through it without looking away from the road.

She pulled a folder out of her bag. "I found something that might be able to prove that she's associated with the Yakuza." She opened the folder and put it on my lap. "It's in braille." I ran my fingers across the papers. This was it. This might be one of the links I was missing.

"These are bank statements." I said.

"Yeah, and they say that she was taking money from a third party. If we can figure out why and prove that is was the Yakuza who were paying her, we might be able to nail her." She exhaled triumphantly.

"We might." The car started to turn right. "Are we there?"

"Yeah." The car rolled to a stop and the parking break grinded into place. Her door opened and closed. Her heels clipped the pavement as she rounded the car. I only just managed to open the door when she made it to my side.

I got out of the car, closed the door and unfolded my cane. "I think you'll like him." She told me and offered her arm. I took it and she lead me into a building.

We climbed over ten flights of stairs and when we got to the top, my heart skipped a beat. I could hear something. Something I wasn't expecting what so ever.


	5. Chapter 5

It was him. It was his heartbeat. I could hear it. I tried to play it cool, to not get all worked up from him stalking me. I let Karen continue to lead me to the Lawyer. If he was here, he'd know why I was. I couldn't let him expose me.

We reached the last landing and she lead me to a door. It didn't take long for the door to open. The heartbeat was a matter of feet from me. He answered the door, but Karen doesn't seem phased in the slightest.

"Hi Matt."

"Hi Karen." He steps aside for us to walk through. "Make yourselves comfortable." He tells us as he shuts the door. From what I could feel from the room, it was a very spacious apartment. No art, no unnecessary things. Karen leads me to a couch.

"It's a pleasure to meet you Mister Murdoch." I didn't extend my hand. This was him. I'm sure of it. There was no mistaking that beat. That breath. That walk. "Although you do seem familiar." I said, non-too subtly. He in took a breath a little shakier than I anticipated.

"I can assure you, you've never met me before." He walked into the living room after us.

"I'm sure I'll put my finger on it. Anyway." I inclined my head in Karen's direction. "Was there a specific reason why you brought me to a lawyer's apartment?" She shuffled through her purse and brought out another folder.

"Matt was one of the lawyers who put Fisk away, right?" I nodded. "I know for a fact that Fisk had been dealing with the Yakuza." She paused dramatically. "I think Matt can help us shed some light on some of the missing links in this case." She put the folder of the coffee table in front of me.

"Okay then. Mr. Murdoch, do you-"

"It's Matthew, or Matt, Mr. Murdoch was my Dad." Weird.

"Well, then, Matt, do you have anything about the Yakuza and Frisk relations. Anything on paper?" He shifted his weight.

"I do have some information, yes. But I don't think it'd be a good idea to release it to the public." He crossed his big stupid arms.

"I understand that you may feel obliged to withhold this information, but this is for the good of the public." I told him. I did my best not to yell and scream at him. He blocked me again. He held my answers hostage because he thought he knew best.

Karen's phone rang. "I will be right back, it's work." She got up to leave. "Hello? Really?" She left the apartment and the quiet that followed was deafening.

"I know who you are." I said finally. His essence didn't budge.

"I know." More ear retching quiet.

"Why?"

"Why what?" He walked over to the couch I was on and sat down.

"Why did you take my papers if you had no intension of revealing them yourself? Why would you keep all of this stuff a secret?" I picked up Karen's folder and dropped it back down.

"I have every intension of revealing their doings, but you can't be a part of that." Karen came back into the apartment.

"Hey, I have to go. Do you need me to call you a cab?" She asked.

"I'm fine. I still have stuff to ask Mattew."

"Okay." She left. I could hear her walk down the stairs and onto the sidewalk.

"I have every right to be a part of this." I got up. This was bullshit. All of this was bullshit. "You have no right to stop me." I was going to play the dirty card if he didn't give me what I wanted.

"I have every right." He put his hands on his hips.

"I know your identity, I'll rat you out." That sounded better in my head. Less, childish.

"No you won't. And I'm not giving you your papers back."

"That's the thing. They're my papers. Mine. I spent years of my life gathering up all of that information. You can't just throw that all down the drain!" I was shouting, loudly but I didn't care. He was stopping me at every entrance. "You can't stop me forever."

"I know." He left the room and headed into what I'm guessing was the kitchen. "But I can stop you now." I sighed and sat back hard on the couch. This wasn't fair.

"So," I started. I don't like awkward silences. "You're blind?" That. Was. Pathetic.

"Yeah. Yeah I am." That was elaborate.

"How long?"

"Hmm?" I heard him open the fridge.

"How long you've been blind?" The sound of bottles clinking and then the fridge closing came before a small sigh from Matthew.

"Since I was nine." He walked back into the room and held a bottle out to me. "You?" I walked into that one I guess.

"I, I was twelve." I opened the bottle. Beer. "How'd it happen?"

"Car crash. I got chemicals in my eyes. You?" I pushed my glasses farther up onto my face. I guess he wouldn't be able to see the scars.

"A, uh, a hot poker." I heard him intake a sharp breath. "A couple of the Yakuza broke into our house and, and uh." I stopped myself. I was beginning to stutter and I could feel tears well in my eyes.

"It's okay." He sat down next to me. He didn't understand. These people took everything from me. They had to pay.

"No it's not. None of this is okay." I go up and he followed. "My life was ruined because of them." Tears began to stream. "They took all of my family, and, and my eyes." I began to sob quietly and he wrapped his arms around me.

"I'm sorry." We stood there for a few moments while I calmed down. Then I pulled away from him.

"Uh, thanks for, for having me." I wiped my face. "I'm sorry for being a nuisance. I'll leave it be." I headed for the door, but he stopped me.

"Where are you going?" I don't know. I really don't.

"Somewhere. I don't know." I opened the door and left.

Karen obviously didn't take me to Josie's. So, I decided I'd find wherever it was and drown myself in liquor.


	6. Chapter 6

Josie was, nice, I guess. I had to ask someone for directions to the bar. That didn't go well. They ended up trying to grope me in a back-alley way of the very place I was trying to find. Josie walked out back where we were and shooed him away.

"Thank you." I said. She was already heading back inside.

"Don't mention it. Really." She slammed the door in my face and I headed around front. I asked someone who was exiting the building where the bar was, and he told me this was it.

I headed inside and the smell hit me like a bag of bricks. Something like a mix of a moldy sock and baby diaper soaked in vomit, stale beer and urine. To say the least, it was gross. My shoes stuck to the ground and I slipped on something squishy a few times.

I made it to the bar in relatively safely. I sat at the counter and observed my surroundings. Within a few moments, Josie's voice greeted me from the other side of the counter.

"What're you doing in here?" She asked, well, demanded.

"I need booze." I told her. I heard her shuffle away and then slam a glass on the counter in front of me. She poured something sour smelling into it and shoved it my way. I grabbed it and took a sip. It nearly knocked me on my ass right there and then.

"What is this?" I coughed.

"I don't know." She left the bottle. Finishing the small glass of thick liquid was, challenging. But I got it down and poured myself another glass.

After about four glasses of that strange stuff, the taste didn't bother me. I was on my sixth glass when someone took the bottle from my hand.

"I think that's enough." The voice sounded familiar, but I could put a finger on it. My brain was fuzzy and slow. It was female, I think. Yeah, definitely female. She, whoever she was, grabbed the glass out of my hands too and yelled to Josie. "Why'd you let her drink this much?" There wasn't an answer. "Can you give me a hand?" She asks someone closer.

Two pair of hands grab me and lift me out of the stool. They start to carry me out of the bar.

"Let go of me!" I try to swing at the person to my left but all I managed to do was dislodge my arms from my two supports and crash to the floor. The smell of the place amplified when my face hit the wet floor. I felt my glasses fall off and I made a blind reach for them. I couldn't find them.

"Come on Alex." Her voice called. She walked past me and grabbed something. Then the hands were back on me and lifting me up. I heard the squeak of a door then fresh air hit my face. They lead me a few feet and then I heard a car door open. "I've got her." She said as one pair of hands released.

I was guided into the backseat of a car. Within a minute, two other doors opened and closed, and the car was started. I was lying on the backseat of whoever's car this was while whispers came from the front.

I couldn't make out what was being said. Nothing but small bits here and there.

"Where should we take her?"

"Have anyone else?"

"Please?"

"Doesn't know me."

"Thank you Foggy." I fell asleep at some point on the way to wherever we were heading. The comforting bumping of the car lulled me to sleep easily.

I woke up with a thumping headache. I sat up and groaned as the sudden motion was accompanied by a wave of nausea. I stood up and instantly fell to the floor as my knees buckled. "Shit!" I yelled as I hit the cold cement floor.

"Are you okay?" Someone rushed into the room. Their voice wasn't familiar.

"Who are you?" I asked, easing myself back into a standing position. His breath fluttered for a second.

"Oh, yeah. I'm Foggy. A, uh, friend of Karen's." She must have been the lady last night.

"Okay, why are you in my apartment." This was definitely my apartment. The smell of oranges was everywhere and my sheets were soft silk. Wait. "How did you get in here." I was standing now, barely.

"I um. Well Karen, she picked your door." He rubbed the back of his neck. "She asked me to watch you and make sure you were okay. She would have been here, but she said she had like, an interview or something." He was nervous. Why?"

"Where are my glasses?" I was groping my table side for them but they weren't there.

"Oh, they're out here on the table. I'll grab them for-"

"It's fine. I've got it." I shuffled past him and into the living room. They were on the coffee table next to my couch. I slid them on and looked over at Foggy. "I'm fine. Thank you for staying the night." My stomach felt like it was trying to pry my mouth open and jump onto Foggy's shoes.

"Oh, it's no problem. I'm, I'm gonna go now." He walked over to the front door and opened it. He was about to close it behind him when I called his name.

"Hey, Foggy." He peaked his head through the door.

"Yeah?"

"Tell Karen thank you. For everything."

"Yeah. Have a good day Alex." He closed the door. I could hear him walk down the stairs and out onto the sidewalk. Now that he was gone, I ran to the bathroom.

"I'm never drinking again." I promised myself after the vomiting stopped. My nose and throat burned so, so bad. I stayed in the bathroom for about fifteen minutes, willing myself to get up. I didn't want to. Eventually I got up and brushed my teeth. I drank three cups of water and a ginger ale.

Around six in the afternoon, I got a call.

"Hello?" I answered.

"Hi, uh, Alex?" I knew that voice. But who was it?

"This is her. Who is this?" The woman on the other end was, crying? "What's wrong Ma'am?" Her breath was stuttering and labored.

"My name is Loralee. The, the Yakuza have kidnapped me." She sounded like she was reading something. Like she was following a script. "You have two hours to give over the papers you have or, or, or I die." She broke out sobbing and then the line cut off.

"Hello? Hello?! Loralee!? Crap!" I threw my phone onto the couch. Loralee. Loralee who? Not my driver Loralee. No, it couldn't be. I had an idea. Matt. Matt was the Daredevil. He could help me. But I don't have his number. I paced the living room for a minute. Then I snatched up my phone and called Karen.

"Hello?" Karen's voice asked on the other end of the phone.

"Hi, Karen-"

"How are you?" She sounded genuinely worried, but I didn't have time for that right now.

"Good. Hey, do you have Matt's number by any chance?"

"Yeah. Yeah I do. Do you need something?"

"Oh, no. We just got to talking after you left, and I found something he was looking for is all."

"Um, okay." She gave me his phone number and I wrote it down.

"Thank you so much Karen. For everything."

"You're welcome. I'll talk to you later, okay?"

"Yeah. Bye." I hung up and immediately called Matt.

It rang four times when I heard him. "Hello?"

"Matt? It's Alex."

"How'd you get my number?" He sounded confused.

"It doesn't matter. Look, something's happened and I need your help."

"What's wrong?" I heard him change ears.

"I just got a call from a woman who I knew. She said that I had two hours before the Yakuza killed her." I was panicking.

"Wait, what? What do they want?"

"They, she said I had two hours to give over those papers before they kill her! She sounded so scared." I began to sob a little. Because of me, someone I was friends with was going to die. "I know you're the Daredevil. Please, I'm begging you, help me get her back." He sighed. He wasn't sure.

"Yeah. Yeah. Do you know where you need to meet them?"

"No."

"Here's what you're going to do, call them back and get an address. Then you call me and tell me where it is. I'll do the rest." Hell no.

"What! No, I created this, I'm gonna help fix it." I wasn't being persuaded not to. "I'm not moving Matt. I'm going with, or I don't need your help." There was a long, long silence.

"Fine. Go get the address." He hung up. It took me a second before I got the courage up to call them back.


	7. Chapter 7

Standing in front of the warehouse was nerve racking. It was about seven thirty and Matt was off in the distance making sure everything went smoothly. But that didn't help my nerves. I knocked on the door, the folder of information in my hand. It took about five seconds for the door to open.

A big feeling man stood in the door way. He grabbed me roughly and pulled me in. His hands were the size of plates that spanned my whole shoulder as he lead me, rather meanly, through the building.

"Wait here." He told me as we stopped. He let me go and I heard a door open. "She's here." I heard his muffled voice through the door. It opened again and he pulled me inside. The room smelled weird.

"Are you alone?" Came a voice somewhere in front of me.

"Yes." He got out of the chair he was in.

"Give them here." I held out the papers and he snatched them from my hand. He leafed through the papers and gave a satisfied huff. "Thank you Miss Treaty. Kill her."

"What!" The big man grabs me again and pulls me out of the room. "Wait, what about Loralee? Will she be let free?" I called.

"Yes. She'll be let free. You on the other hand will die painfully. Just like your father." He yelled back. He seemed so, calm. Sadistically calm.

"My, my fa-" I couldn't get the rest out because I was beginning to be dragged backwards by my hair. I was pulled for a while as I kicked and screamed.

"LET ME GO!" Eventually I was thrown into a cold room on my hands and knees. It smelled like meat. Raw, bloody meat. "Please don't do this. I won't do anything again. I promise." He walked away from me and I heard him pick up something blood chilling. I heard the ring or metal on a counter. He had picked up a knife. "Please. Please."

I was scooting backwards as his footsteps grew closer. "Please." He grabbed my hair again and lifted me to my feet. "PLEASE!"

I heard a solid THUMP as something hit the head of the man with the knife. He grunted as if it was more annoying than anything else. He let me go and looked around. I managed to get up and back a few paces away from him when I heard the fighting.

Someone light on their feet was fighting someone slow and heavy. Then I heard that bleased heartbeat. Matt had come to save me. The fight lasted about two minutes after that. The big man hit the floor with a crash and Matt was over to me.

"We need to go." He urged.

"What about Loralee? What about the papers?" He pulled me, gently.

"We don't need the papers. I made copies." He was avoiding.

"We need to help Loralee." He was still guiding me away. "Hey!"

"She, she's gone, Alex." I stopped walking.

"What? Wait. No, no they promised that she'd be fine, that she'd go free!" Matt rubbed my arm sympathetically, but I yanked away. "Are you sure? Are you sure she's dead?"

"Yeah. I'm sure. She was dead before we got here." This can't be happening. This can't be happening! He started dragging me along again, and I didn't resist. He pulled me out of the room and into a hallway. We were met by three, no, four people. Matt took care of them quickly. Then I was being guided away again.

Soon we were back outside, and it was raining. It was coming down pretty hard as Matt pulled me away from the building. Within a minute, my clothes were soaked to the skin. He ran with me for a little over a mile when I slipped.

I skidded across the cobblestone ground. The alleyway wall stopped me as I slammed into it. I stayed there, wet and numb. Matt tried to get me up, his gloved Devil hands pulled at my arms and his deep voice yanked at my ears.

"She's dead." I said almost to nothing. The pulling and the yanking stopped.

"I know." He kneeled in front of me, the rain sliding off of his hard armor. We stayed there for only a moment when he took both my hands in his. "Come on. Let's get out of the rain." He pulled me up and lead me off into the night.

We were at his apartment. We climbed up to the roof and got in that way because he was still in his vigilante suit. He sat me down on his couch as he went to change. When he came back he headed for the kitchen. "Are you hungry?" He opened his fridge.

"Yeah. Whatcha got?" I got up and joined him.

"Left over Chinese, left over Mexican, some milk, anything sound good?"

"Chinese." He handed me a cardboard container. "Thanks." There were already a pair of chopsticks in there when I opened up the container. I move away from the fridge and sit on the cold ground. "Smells like pork." I was joined by Matt with his Mexican take out.

"Beef and broccoli." He confirmed. We sat there and ate our food in silence when a knock sounded. "I'll be right back." He placed the container on the ground where he was sitting, and left. A moment later the front door opened.

I intently focused on the sound of my chewing as to give Matt his privacy. I noticed the different spices in the pork and felt the individual fibers in the cardboard container. Then,

"Alex?" It was Karen's voice. I look up from the container and faced the woman in front of me. "What're you doing here?" I didn't have a good excuse for that.

"I, uh, Matt helped me, do something." I heard Matt laugh.

"She knows what I do, Alex. It's okay." I called it. I knew that she had to know something.

"Oh."

"You knew he was, you know?" Karen asked me.

"I knew yesterday when you brought me over here." I stayed on the ground.

"Oh." I heard her scuff her heals.

"What're you doing here though?" I didn't want her to ask me again. So I asked her a question.

"I came to see if you were here, and you are. I have some news on the case we were working on. I found out-"

"Karen, I, I'm not working on the case anymore." I picked at my food as her heart quickened.

"What? Why? This isn't because Matt told you not to is it?" She smack him.

"Ow!" He yelled as he rubbed his shoulder.

"Why are you making her stop?" Karen berated him.

"No, Karen, Matt didn't make me stop anything. I chose to stop."

"Why?" I couldn't discuss this right now.

"Some things, happened." I went back to picking at my food, a few tears fell into the broccoli. I stayed quiet as Karen looked at me.

"Are you okay?" She kneeled next to me.

"Great. I'm just great." More tears fell. My glasses started to slide from my face. She grabbed ahold of them. She gasped as she saw my eyes. My scars. My burns.

As she placed the glasses on the ground, she reached up to touch my face. My immediate reaction was to stop her, but the gentleness of her fingers stopped me.

"What happened?" Her voice was so sorry for my burned, blind eyes. She ran her hands over the charred flesh.

"Please." I grabbed her wrist. "Don't." She continued.

"What happened?" She asked again. I pulled away from her. This was too much.

"I can't." I got off of the floor and took a few steps away.

"Alex, what happened to you?" She followed me.

"Something bad. Please, Karen. I can't talk about it. Not right now."

"Okay, yeah okay. You're right. I'm sorry." She took a step back and Matt walked over.

"Are you okay?" He didn't touch me. He didn't give me a comforting shoulder touch, or a sympathetic hand squeeze. I appreciated that so much.

"Do I have to be?" I almost laughed.

"No. No you don't." Karen answered as she squeezed my hand. I slipped my hand out and rubbed my face. I could feel the scars. My ugly scars.

"I think." I sighed deeply. "I think I'm gonna go home." I retrieved my glasses from the floor and returned them to my face. So, they could mask my eyes. "Today has been, way too long. And, and I think I may still be a little hung over, so." I forced a little laugh as I made my way to the door.

"Hung over?" Matt asked.

"She, she uh went to Josie's after here last night." Karen old him. I grabbed my still wet coat.

"Thank you for helping me with the case Karen. I appreciated it more than you'll know."

"Absolutely." I heard her scuff her shoes. I left the apartment.

"Thank you for trying to help me. And I'm sorry about being a nuisance about that file." I whispered to Matt. I knew he heard me because I heard a whisper back.

"There's nothing to be sorry for. If you ever need my help again, you know where to find me." After that I left the building, finding myself in the rain, again.

I almost called a cab to take me to my apartment, but I thought different. Those bastards will pay for what they did to Loralee. I don't care if I die making them suffer. I don't care if I have to tear every brick out of every building to find them. But they'll get what's coming for them.


	8. Chapter 8

Every night I would venture out of my apartment to chase down clues about where the Yakuza were hiding. Every night for three weeks I came up with nothing. Absolutely nothing. So I started to take it more seriously.

"That'll be fifty-nine eighty-six." The bored lady at the register was holding out her hand. I reached into my pocket and pulled out my wallet. It was organized so I could pull out the proper bills.

"Fifty-nine?" I ask, filling through the bills.

"Yes." I pull out the bills and then go for the change. Two quarters, two dimes, three nickels and a penny. I gently place the money on the counter.

"Is that correct?" She sighs and sifts through it.

"It's fine. Here's your bag. Have a nice day." I grab the bag from her and walk away. She was a huge delight. It doesn't matter now though. Now I have the things I need to question these assholes.

That night I sat at home and made my outfit. I know that that sounds really lame, but it wasn't. I guess. The outfit was completely black.

It consisted of a black tank-top, black cargo pants, black combat boots, and black gloves. It was really comfortable. And it was perfect for intimidation. The last thing I had to do was put on my mask. It was a motorcycle helmet with a voice modulator on the inside.

After I was suited up, I headed out. I had a motorcycle my dad used to own in a garage no too far away, so I took that out. It hadn't rained since that night with, Loralee. So the dark streets were easy to maneuver.

The first person to meet me was one of the people that were on my list of known helper of the Yakuza. A man I had previously encountered. Bob White.

The night was loud with the sound of traffic and I could hear him walking down the sidewalk as clear as day. All I had to do was pull up next to him and shove him into the alleyway.

I came to a stop next to the plush man and his three goons.

"Excuse me sir." My modified voice called. The voice was rough and electronic sounding. And it got their attentions just fine. The four of them turned to me and I kicked one of them into the alley. The other two came at me and met the same fate.

"Who do you think you-AHH!" I grabbed him by his thick throat and dragged him into the shadows. He was one, heavy man. He slipped and fell backwards onto one of his unconscious goons. "Wait until the police get here!" He was one ballsy man, I had to give him that.

"Who do you work for?" The electronical voice asked him.

"A firm called-" I grabbed him and yanked him up, slamming his jelly back onto the brick walls.

"Who do you work for besides your firm?"

"I don't know what you're talking about." I punched him square in the jaw. He whimpered. "Alright! Alright!" He broke easy.

"Who?" I punched the wall next to his head. Little did he know, I had a recording device in my pocket.

"The Yakuza! The Yakuza!" He began to cry.

"What do you do?!" I raised my voice.

"Please, they'll kill me." He pleaded.

"I'll do worse." I punched him in the side. He let out a howl and cried.

"OKAY! Alright! I cover up their transactions! When they get in trouble I one of the ones who get them out! Please don't hurt me." I let him sink to the ground. One of?

"I'll be back." I ran from the alley and hopped onto my motorcycle. As I pulled away from the scene, I could hear the dial of a phone.

"9-1-1 what's your emergency sir?" Bob White started rambling on about a motorcycle riding lunatic who mugged him. Good luck finding me. I changed the license plate on my bike before I left.

I zoomed through the city, as the sound of sirens showed up in the alley way. No one would be able to ping any of this on Alex Treaty. Not unless I got caught on the bike.

The siren sounded behind me. SHIT! I could hear the low cars speed up on my bike. Their sirens screamed as they caught up with me. Two police cars, passed me. They apparently weren't after me. I raced to the garage, locked up the bike and costume, and headed home.

The night's activities were beginning to wear on me. I felt like I could sleep forever! So as I got home I plopped down on the couch. I was kind of sore from holding up that big man. I kicked off my sneakers and threw my glasses onto the coffee table.

The air in the apartment was a little thick from the lack of circulation, so I opened up a window. It smelled good out tonight. Like victory. Like justice.

A little bird, a sparrow, I think. The chirps it made were beautiful as it hoped all over the window sill. I was so content right them, leaning on the frame with the breeze coming in and the bird chirping, that I didn't hear them come in. The only thing I did manage to hear was the squeak of my stairs.

I angled my head away from the bird and towards the noise. I couldn't smell anything else. No abnormal perfumes or sweat. It was just that one noise. Just that one abnormality. It was unsettling.

As I stood away from the window, something thudded into the wall next to my head. I felt it. It sliced my finger open. A ninja star. A fucking ninja star.

Another one flew out the window, and another hit the ground in front of me. I was under attack! I dove behind the couch as four of five dug themselves into the soft cushions. Thankfully I still had my phone on me, or I would have really been fucked.

I flipped open the front and dialed the number that would be of most use. Matt's. Three rings went off when he answered.

"Hello?" He sounded groggy. It was about twelve thirty.

"I need help. I'm being attacked." I scooched around the sofa and got kicked in the face. "UGH!"

"Who is this? What's going on?" He sounded wide awake now. I could just make out his heartbeat through the receiver. I jumped up and got another kick square in the gut. I dropped back to the ground.

"Alex." I quickly gave him my address and ducked before a sword took my head off.

"I'm on my way. Try to hold on." He hung up. The sound of the phone was mixed with my scream as one of those stars imbedded themselves in my thigh. I couldn't hear them. I couldn't track their position. There were no heartbeats!

Matt wouldn't be here in time. He wouldn't. He couldn't. But I didn't the best I could. These assholes jumped me in my home. There were at least four of them, and I couldn't track them. I was doomed.

I felt a swing come just in time for a fist to attach itself to the sofa back next to me. Another second warning before a kicked tried to connect itself with my head. I wasn't lucky the third time. Another fist connected with my ear and the ringing that followed was deafening.

Now I couldn't hear out of my left ear. Things weren't looking great. The sword tried to chop my hand off when I swung at one of them. I could track the sword, I could track the stars. If they just kept to those weapons for most of it, I might live long enough for Matt to get here.

I was kicked, punched, stabbed at, swung at, and had several things thrown at me for about ten minutes when I heard His heartbeat on one of the roofs. I could hear his footsteps and his quick breath as he raced to my aid. I only had to hold out a little bit longer.

One of them had a knife again. Good. Good. I could handle the knives. They swung at me. I dodged. They tried to stab. I deflected. This was good! Not so good, was when I was dodging another swipe of the knife, one of them kicked my knees in. I fell to the ground and the knife wielder took their advantage.

The knife came down at me with lightning speed. The only reason I survived was because of something one of the other ninjas did. They kicked me. The force moved me out of the way of the knife. I heard the dull thud as it was embedded in the wood floor.

I jumped up and backed up. He should be here about now. If I could just avoid them. Just then, a window broke and something flew through the sky. I heard it thud against one of the invaders. Matt was here! He flew into the room and kicked another one onto the floor.

"Get out of here!" He yelled at me as one of the ninjas fell to the ground in front of me. I could hear him connect all of his hits. I don't understand how he could do that. They made no sound!

I backed up into my bedroom and closed the door. All I could do at this point was sit and listen. Listen to the fight I couldn't handle out there. I was trained for this stuff. I was trained to be able to fight! Yet, here I was being saved by some guy I barely knew who was whooping my attacker's asses.

The fight was severely one sided. And it favored Matt. One by one, the ninjas fell and didn't get back up. After about five minutes, there was only two sounds. Matt's quick heartbeat, and my own fast beat one.

The door to my room slid open.

"Matt?" I was curled on my bed. I felt like a frightened child, crying to their older brother for protection. Because that's what Matt was to me. My big brother who helped me when I was in trouble.

"Yeah." He was breathing heavily. He plopped down on the bed next to me.

"I'm sorry." I could smell the musky sweat that was beading on his forehead as he sat up.

"There's nothing to be sorry for." That wasn't true. There was a very big reason to be sorry.

"You asked me to stay out of trouble." I scooted closer to him. "The reason they were here tonight, was because I got information they didn't want me to have." I heard him sigh, and it broke my heart. For some weird reason, I thought very highly of his opinion.

"What did you do Alex?" He sounded worried more than angry. Worried about what I might have done.

"I went out tonight and, interrogated someone that I knew was helping the Yakuza with their stuff." I took in a big breath. "I got the information that I needed." The recorder with the recording of Bob White's confession was with my bike and costume.

"Damn it Alex!" He stood up and paced the room for a minute. He was obviously thinking about something. After a minute, he stopped in front of me.

"Was it good information? Do you have any proof?" He sounded, hopeful?

"I recorded the whole thing."

"We can't use that. It'll have your voice on it. They could trace it back to you." he went to pacing.

"It doesn't have my voice on it. I wore a voice modulator inside a motorcycle helmet." I picked at my bare toes.

"Good idea. Maybe we could use that." He stopped pacing. "Can I see the recording?" Uh, no.

"It's hidden." Sorry Matt, but I can't let you stop me again. "Thank you for coming to help me. Another few minutes, and I would've been dead." He sat down on the bed next to me.

"Please try to stay safe. These people will do anything to make sure they are kept secret. I don't want to see you get hurt anymore." He kissed the top of my head. "Please."

"I'll try. I really will Matt. I'm gonna try to be more careful." I nudged him lightly. "Maybe I'll just come live by you, then if I get attacked again, it's not fifteen minutes before help arrives." He nudged me back.

"It was only ten minutes!"


End file.
